Immortality
by Rebel-Aquarius
Summary: Immortality has a price. And to live forever...there are sacrifices that one must make...Ending of chapter one has been revised...again. Sorry!
1. Prologue

Yes: 'Tis another fic that I decided to start writing. I'm incredibly stupid for doing this, since I'm only going to regret this later, starting so many stories and whatnot. But on the other hand, I got this idea a couple days ago and I thought it was really cool; if there's one thing I've learned, never ignore an idea…soooooooooooooo….here goes.

Prologue—The End of the Beginning: 

Night loomed over the many buildings that made up Jump City, a pale faced moon gleaming in the waters of its harbor. Nothing seemed to stir—and yet, what would at the very stroke of midnight? Ships creaked from where they were tied at their posts, and trees creaked slightly under the pressure of the wind, which howled again and again in the air, like a mournful wolf. A single, pale flake of snow fell from a sky of dark blue velvet, meandering its way down on short puffs of air, before landing on the edge of his nose.

He didn't even dare to raise a hand and brush it off—for fear that movement would attract attention—but allowed it to melt, cold droplets trickling down to the tip of his nose, before falling, creating a single ripple in a puddle below. It had rained recently, though he had the sense that the first winter blizzard was on its way tonight.

Silver mist floated from the warmth of his mouth, as he trembled with both the cold and excitement at what he had done…but the second one got the better of him. Though he hated to admit it, there was nothing like the thrill of doing something wrong. It was even better when you weren't caught…

_**----------------------------**_

_Freezing cold water, swiping at burnt flesh, as the tumbling ocean bristled with Winter's fury…the waves roared wildly, tossing this way and that like stallions. Foam spilled over rocks, as the water continued to carry the dead body outward, passing the gray city by…menacing cliffs overtook the far left side, casting its massive shadow over the civilization…_

_**--------------------------**_

****He should have worn a coat; a light but frigid drizzle had picked up and was slowly soaking his clothes, making them stick to his skin, and he was finding it difficult to move in a stealthy enough manner for his liking. Somehow—though he was positive he was going to catch hypothermia for this—he held back a violent shiver and pressed on, vaulting his body gracefully from one rooftop to the next.

There should have been no one of the streets, but of course, vigilant as ever—under his orders, of course—the occasional policeman strolled up the street, passing briefly beneath a lamp post, before entering the shadows again. He didn't mind: As long as they didn't look up, he'd have no problems. All he wanted right now was to get home and get to bed…he was going to be exhausted tomorrow morning…where had he left the aspirin? He was going to need that so badly…there were bruises all over his arms and legs and back…fighting had been especially brutal today…

_**-------------------------**_

_A broken, blistering body bumped against the craggy shoreline, ragged clothes catching on one of the sharp points of rock that jutted out from the blackened sand. Without speaking a word, or making a sound, silhouettes appeared through the mist, as the figures approached, pulling the corpse from where it had snagged…limbs, empty of life left trails behind, as deceased was dragged away, the thick air swirling and closing over like a curtain dropping after the final performance…_

_**------------------------**_

With the skill of a cat, he managed to jump and grab onto a lamp post, swinging himself around so that he perched on top, keeping a wary eye at the streams of golden light pouring downwards onto the sidewalk. If he was revealed, pandemonium would most likely follow, and that would be the end of him…again.

He was about to attempt latching onto the rim of an office building across the street, when a pair of policemen halted beneath him. He cursed mentally, but remained silent, straining his ears as he listened to their conversation.

"…I don't know about you, Ted, but this place is getting to be a bit too dark for my liking, if you know what I mean?"

"No doubt about, Jack; My wife won't let the kids go outside anymore and even when I'm off duty, I keep a gun near me at all times. I don't care what the Justice League says, I don't feel safe at all!"

"Hmm. Did you know Doris was talking to me about moving out yesterday?"

"But she's never been fond of it here, with all the crazies running around, and the heroes chasing after. She's never stopped talking about how she's like to move to another place, like Gotham—you told me that yourself!"

"This is different: She doesn't even like Gotham anymore, with the breakout at Arkham a couple weeks ago. She wants to leave the state all together!"

"Can't blame her," The other muttered ominously, glancing up and down the abandoned street. "Nothing's safe around here anymore…The hell, we have a friggin' wall to keep strangers out! You can't trust any new people anymore, ever since the murders and the 'accidents' started happening."

The man called Jack shuddered as the wind screamed out again like a tortured soul.

"Let's keep going…I don't like it here."

"Who would? This is where the first of the killings took place…"

Their voices trailed off as they departed.

_**------------------------**_

_So…this is what it felt like to be dead…frozen, paralyzed, alone. Seeing was impossible, since eyes glazed over with putrid film…a stench of decay rose, poisoning the nostrils with a smell that would make the stomach lurch…and the stillness, the everlasting stillness, of the heart._

_**------------------------**_

He waited until he was positive that they were gone, before he swooped down into the alleyway. Crouching over the sewer drain, he began brushing slush away from the grate with his bare hands…it was still there. Dark stains spread across the firm brown bars that, for some odd reason, could never be removed, as if they served a purpose…a constant reminder of past sins for the blood-thirsty killer that had taken the first life out of thirty other innocents…before his life had been lost as well. The murderer had been shot in the heart, just as he had been advancing on his next victim.

The day lingered in his dreams and daily thoughts constantly. He remembered it with all too vivid detail…the blood that lay in pools on the street…the shouts of shock and triumph as the mortician came and went, taking the body with him…

He sighed, trying to pretend and convince himself that he was simply tired, and that once he got home, everything would be much better. In truth, sighing seemed to be the only way to relieve the stress that was constantly building up in his soul like a brick wall…that, and combat practice, but he felt that there was beginning to be too much of that in his life for his tastes.

Carefully, he crossed the street and began climbing up the fire escape to the office building he had picked out earlier. In the distance, an owl hooted urgently in a skeletal tree: he should have taken it as a warning.

_**---------------------------**_

The clock in the heart of the city struck one, as a shadowy figure appeared by the narrow stairway that led up to the top of the large wall that surrounded the city like a giant, black serpent. It was one of the citizens' meager defenses against any strangers that threatened their beloved home

"Pathetic…they think this can honestly save them…"

The dark stranger flicked out the knife that he had stored in one of the compartments of his belt, before making his steady way to the ramparts; the guards—men that he supposed were from a S.W.A.T. team—were already tired from pacing all night long. They weren't difficult to deal with. Just a quick slash to the throat and they were gone.

He couldn't be sure that it was going to happen…that was probably the only thing that concerned him at the moment. If his prediction was not correct, then most of the things he said would have been for nothing…not that it mattered. He already had complete control, but still, he felt that something like this needed to happen, to finalize all his accomplishments, all his work that led to utter perfection.

…Time seemed to pass too slowly for his liking, and even though he had arrived mere minutes ago, tension seemed to grow within him, and spread to his arms and legs and stomach. He had half the mind to start tapping his foot, or drumming his fingers, or some other tactic normal people usually did. But he wasn't normal. And anyway…

_Patience was a virtue…_

_**------------------------**_

****Somehow, miraculously, he managed to slip in through the window by picking the lock. It was slightly amazing that, despite all their advanced technology to keep intruders from invading their personal space, creeping in was this easy.

_But then…he had learned from "the best."_

Robin gave a small, sad smile and slid the glass pane back into place, before turning to survey the main room. Thankfully, it was empty; he didn't want to have to deal with any late night stragglers, like Raven out for a cup of tea, or Cyborg having a late night snack. He crept down the hallway soundlessly, towards his room, praying to God that he wouldn't be caught. If he was, there'd be questions, and there was just too much to explain…

The Boy Wonder keyed in his personal code and rested his head against the wall as the computer analyzed it. It was unbelievable, how much one person could transform over time…make so many excuses and lies…he'd never thought it quite possible…but then, look what happened to him.

The quick, swishing sound of the door opening made him look up, preparing to enter…but he was prevented by group of people that were blocking his way.

Starfire, Raven, Beast Boy, Cyborg: All of them stood in the doorway, stiff with mingled rage and confusion; all of them watching him with blazing accusation in their eyes.

"How—how did you guys get in my room?" Robin asked uncertainly, trying not to imagine how much they knew.

"We overrode the computer mainframe," Cyborg said in a flat voice, as though he were uncaring about the whole situation, those his eyes revealed the truth. "We can do that you know."

_"They know…they know,_ screamed a voice in the back of his head. _"Get out while you still can…"_

Robin tried stubbornly to ignore it.

Raven stepped forward, dark eyes glittering with unbridled fury, a small crescent of red outlining her pupils.

"How could you?" She whispered. "How _could_ you betray us?"

"I—I didn't—you don't understand—"

Beast Boy cut him off with a surprisingly cynical snort of disbelief.

"Yeah right. 'We don't understand.' You liar!"

Robin gritted his teeth, trying to maintain control over his temper, and Starfire took the moment to withdraw something from his work table behind them all, before holding it up, the metal still glinting even in the dim light. When she spoke, her voice was trembling, as though she were on the verge of tears.

"What is this?"

The 'S' insignia. How had he missed that? Robin stared at his feet, unable to speak; he felt like his voice had been lost all the way back in the city.

"You know what happens now, Robin."

The teen hero whipped his head upwards in shock, and watched in silent horror and grief as Cyborg aimed his arm cannon at his face, before—

A flash of blue and white light…somebody sobbing…falling…darkness.

_**-----------------------**_

****Slade smirked as he saw the flash of light come from Titans Tower, out on its distant island amidst a sea of fog. His keen hearing caught the soft, _splash_, from what was once the home of honorable teenagers, of heroes…and now, killers. Or, in a different perspective, new targets to be annihilated…

_**------------------------**_

_Robin awoke with a start, lying on an operating table in the center of a dark room, blinking water out of his unmasked eyes. Every part of his body was deathly cold, and he couldn't breathe for a few minutes, out of fear. He barely had the strength to turn his head, though when he did, he instantly regretted it. His skin was viciously burnt, though parts of his flesh were raw and gleaming from the water. And yet…it was crawling back and forth, as though it were…_

_Regrowing._

_Robin felt a sick, twisted feeling creeping up in his heart, and he blinked back tears as he stared wearily at the ceiling…if only…_

_If only he hadn't been so reckless that one morning…_

_If only he had gone after Slade with his team by his side…_

_If only he had fought harder, and not allowed **it** to take control over his body…_

_Because now, he was…Just. Like. Slade._

_"Robin?"_

_That was his master calling. Without hesitation, Robin banished the regret from his head and sat up immediately, ready for orders. The one person he hated with all his life, was now the only person left to turn to. He could never be accepted anywhere else, now that he was a freak._

_It was just like his parents had told him, when he was still a child, long ago, before he had been introduced to a new world, full of hatred and killing, and broken souls:_

_**"Eventually, you have to grow up; there's nothing you can do about it, nothing you can change. You become someone completely new…and sometimes you may not like who you are. But you live with your decisions, and try to make the best of it."**_

_That's exactly what he was going to do. Become a villain, an apprentice, and make the best of it._

_And he'd be damned if anyone got in his way._

**To be Continued…**

Did it surprise you? Yes? No? Maybe so? Please review, because I'd love to know what you think. And yes, this fic is going to be continued. Technically, you already know the end of it, but there's still a lot of stuff left to be explained. This thing is backwards: You know the ending before the beginning…but I guess it kind of has to be that way.

If this confused you: The italics were describing how Robin's "dead body" ended up with Slade, and the normal print was explaining how Robin ended up "dead" in the first place.

Once again, please review, so I can see if anyone's really interested by this…or whatever.

Later:

Rebel-Aquarius


	2. Chapter One

Oy. This would be the third time that I have posted this chapter, and I'm sorry once again. I was thinking though, that I didn't like the whole Raven and crucifixion thing, so I've altered the ending (Insanity 101: I'm Christian too, and I started to realize that the idea didn't sit well with me.) Apologies to all of you that reviewed earlier on; if you feel like reading the new, edited version (again) I will greatly appreciate it. It's just a quick modification, so if you skip right to the last part with Raven's POV, you'll see the change.

Chapter One:

_Agony._

_Intense, burning agony rushed through his veins and flooded his body—the pain scorched his lungs and overtook his limbs in blissful numbness. It felt as if he had been tied up and thrown into the center of a bonfire, there to be consumed by the flames for eternity._

_Was he in Hell?_

_A voice…a voice was laughing and taunting him through the fog, mocking him in his weak state…the needle's point removing itself from where it had been buried in his flesh, and the hands that held him upright gone as well…_

_He was falling…falling deeper into his inner torment—_

_**BAM!**_

_Blood flowed into his mouth and through the tiny spaces in between his teeth, as his face was driven into the hard steel floor. Crimson liquid trickled from his broken nose, soaked his lips, and made him swallow the coppery flavor. He was so worn, so unwilling to fight…_

_**Don't fight it. Please…just don't fight it—it will all be over soon.**_

_If there was one thing about him, it was the frequent battles he had with himself; somewhere inside his soul, he tapped into his last resource of strength and stubbornness._

_**I will not let this take me. Whatever he's put in me, I won't give into it without a fight.**_

_The voice was speaking again, whispering through the mist, riding on pearly swirls of white, and to his ears. And all he could do was listen._

_"You hate yourself…don't you?"_

_At first, there was nothing; but soon, the answer, and the words that it consisted of, began bubbling up his throat. The bitter truth of them make him want to choke on them, gag them back down and throttle whatever he might accidentally say—in his weak condition, though, he had no other options._

_"Yes…I do…" His voice croaked and cracked painfully, yet he pressed on. "I hate who I am, and h—how I came to be this way. I h—hate my life, a—and Batman, the one who m—made m—me this way…I h—hate my…mistakes…I loathe ev—everything a—about me…because I'm so sc—screwed u—up…"_

_**Why am I telling him this! It isn't true! …Is it?**_

_"…And tell me…"_

_A hand closed on his scalp and dragged his head up, so that the voice was closer; it made it easier for its smooth tone to seep into his brain and weave twisted spells around his thoughts, manipulating and corrupting every idea that came to him._

_"…Are you in pain?"_

_"…Y—yes…Like h—hell…"_

_He was going to die—he knew it. His internal suffering was eating him up from the inside out like a foreboding illness._

_**I won't let you bring me down.**_

_His head was released, and he limply flopped back to the ground, drowning once more in his blood and terror._

_"Don't worry…"_

_Slade was still talking in a soothing manner, and it disoriented what conscious thought process Robin still had left in the delirious realm within his head._

_"Immortality's not that bad." _

_But he didn't even register the full effect of these newest words; he had finally been pushed over the edge of the cliff, and was plummeting deep into the depths and despair of his mind._

-----------------------

Thunderheads rumbled in the night sky, like a lion prowling its domain of black clouds as it paced back and forth above mankind's doings; sleet from previous winter storms still slicked the streets in puddles and streams, and heaps of dirty gray snow lined the edges of the sidewalks.

All the population of Jump City was indoors, fast asleep, and oblivious to the furious winter storm that was approaching… None saw the girl sprinting down the deserted streets, nor heard the slap of her frantic footsteps against the concrete.

Tara flung herself down the nearest alleyway, short hair pasted to her pale white forehead and the back of her neck with sweat. She was out of air, and she had the sense that her pursuer knew it—after all, she'd wasted all of it back at the coastline screaming her head off, when Brian had been…been…the teenage girl shivered in revulsion, and felt the salt of tears sting her eyes. His death had been so brutal, and the killer heartless—she'd watched from her hiding place between the boulders on the beach, but when she'd tried to call the police, she'd been found, and forced to flee.

Oh god…she didn't want to die like that…

"Help!" She cried hoarsely, speeding up as best as she could. "Somebody please help me!"

It shouldn't have surprised her, that there would be no one out to help her: Everyone these days didn't stay out past dusk…not since the continuous slaughter of people had taken place earlier in the season. Everyone was still scared—pinned inside the walls of their homes by their fear. Even if the people here weren't cruel in their behavior, they were too stricken and terrified by possibilities of what could happen to risk their life for her benefit.

Urging herself on, Tara ducked and wove her way through the alley; her hands, blurred from her running (thank goodness she was on track team at school), reached for any trash cans nearby, knocking them over to create obstacles for her faceless attacker. She had to fight, like Brian had told her, right before he'd sent her away.

If she didn't make it, she'd never see her parents again, or her friends…and her boyfriend's warning would have been entirely in vain.

Tara was dimly aware that her stalker's footsteps had come to a halt, and she skidded to a halt in bewilderment; from somewhere above her head, a rushing sound cut through the air, and she looked up just in time to scream once more—

Before silence fell over the town again like a final curtain, concealing the finished performance behind its many folds.

-----------------------

Policemen swarmed the scene, blocking off the alleyway from the inquiring eyes of the media and a few people who lived nearby, as the Titans dutifully arrived to examine the body; all of them appeared to be appalled beyond words by his handiwork.

Robin smiled thinly from where he crouched on a rooftop, examining his former friends' responses play out openly on their features: They may not have realized it entirely yet, but deep in their hearts, they knew he'd murdered the stupid girl—just to tempt them out of that hole he had once entitled as his home.

His eyes, hidden behind a new mask that mimicked his master's, roved over the three that were present with callous amusement…

Raven was ill. He could see it from the way her skin had grayed even more severely than usual, and the shadows beneath her drained amethyst gaze—she was haunted by empathetic nightmares of his death, he guessed.

_Good. Let them remember who I **was**…_

Cyborg was tired too, with his shoulders drooping, and his movement sluggish; but it was not from lack of sleep like his Gothic companion…no… He'd probably taken to the workout room, overexerting himself in endless combat practices to keep his mind occupied…lest it creep back to the unforgiving thought that he was now a killer—a hypocrite! Robin noted smugly—, that he had become one of the very people the Titans fought to take down.

He'd shot his best friend without a doubt in his mind.

Somewhere in his gut, Robin felt a twinge of regret, and anger that so much had come between them now…however, it vanished from his mind as he turned to face the final Titan that had arrived at the gruesome crime scene: Starfire.

The alien girl wasn't even trying to conceal what was happening inside of her (unlike the other two who seemed to be trying their best to forget he'd ever even existed). It was apparent from how she edged away from the other two when they tried to speak with her; how she flinched when Raven touched her shoulder in a consoling gesture; the way that her bright green eyes burned with accusation whenever she had to turn herself towards Cyborg.

Personally, he found it hysterical that he could even affect her this deeply.

Perhaps he could use that to his advantage…

Robin considered how, while waiting in anticipation as the three other teens marched towards the corpse.

-----------------------

Raven had only to glance at the dead body, and knew she'd be in for a hell of a night just examining it.

The young stranger had been slain with some sort of blade—that was concluded from the slash marks in her stomach and limbs. The bizarre part was that she'd been pulled up, her wrists tied to the nearest building's fire escapes in spread-eagled fashion. What was the purpose of that?

Raven sighed, made sure Star and Cy were busy in their task of interviewing police officers, and started to process the victim.

The coroner had announced her time of death being around 11:00 PM…there had been, at least, a two hour gap between this girl's death and their arrival…that gave the killer plenty of time to return and tie the girl to the fire escape. But to what purpose? The Goth girl frowned and tried to concentrate a list of motives; yet her weary, guilt-ridden mind refused to do such.

It's been a month, Raven attempted to reason with her head. He was a traitor—a lowly traitor—, athief, a mindless murderer…and he was insane. He deserved, no, **had** to die.

_…But whether or not we took responsibility for that task was our choice…_

"It's been a month," the demoness repeated. "I won't waste my pity on his memory."

-----------------------

_Thump…thump…thump…_

Robin listened, with his acute senses, to the sound of Starfire's heartbeat pounding in his eardrums as it pumped blood through her body. It was an odd experience, though not one that he didn't fully appreciate. His master had given him the ability to perceive things in a way that no human being could ever possibly hope to achieve. And hearing the swish of liquid that was right beneath her skin…it filled his nose with a deliciously sickening aroma, and made his mouth water.

But now was not the time to focus on the red-headed girl. With reluctance, he ignored the overpowering emotions of his new experience and watched Raven intensely, as she prodded the body.

-----------------------

The ocean—a deep, mournful blue in the dark morning's lack of light—was restless, the waves crashing on the shore and rocking back and forth: The picture of chaos.Beast Boy, from his viewpoint on the beach, stared out over the water, nose wrinkled his disgust and annoyance.

"I don't know why _I'm_ the one that has to be stuck out alone on the creepy beach…" he growled beneath his breath. "I hate this kind of work."

While the other three had received a call about a girl that had turned up dead somewhere in the city, he'd been sent to check out another deceased kid on the beach; while the area where he'd been discovered (two Coast Guard men who were watching Beast Boy from the comfort of their boat had spotted the body starting to go out in the tide) was closer to home, he still was unhappy with the fact that he had absolutely no help.

The dude that had been discovered was African-American, and his body was covered in angry burn marks and blisters; his eyes were wide open and the misted pupils still showed his fear and shock…it led the green Titan to assume that he'd been alive during the entire burning…whoever had killed him had obviously had some practice in torture methods.

A familiar tune rang from his belt, and Beast Boy retrieved his communicator.

"Yo," he muttered. Usually, all he could manage these days were one-word sentences with his friends. It pretty much sickened him, the way the people of Jump thought their heroes were perfect, almighty beings…when really, all they were was a couple of kids with super powers and a dirty secret about their leader that was hidden between the four of them.

_"How's the body?"_ Raven's monotone voice rang out at him. The changeling shrugged noncommittally at the miniature screen where she was watching him, and evaded her stern head-on stare.

"It's…disgusting," he admitted finally. "To me, it looks like he was lit on fire, or blasted by a blow torch."

_"Any leads on who he might be?"_

Beast Boy frowned, grunted for her to hang on, and searched the young man's pockets.

"Yeah…driver's license says that his name's Brian Wallace. He's African-American. He might be our age…"

The hero leaned toward the dead teen's face. He'd probably been here with friends, or something, and was hanging out when…

_"Hey! What the hell are yo—? What—? NO! PLEASE, NO—"_

The past reenacted itself before the changeling's eyes, and then faded from view; Beast Boy returned to Raven, who seemed to be comparing what leads they might have.

_"He has a driver's license…and he was on the beach…that means that, unless he walked, a car's got to be around there somewhere. If you find it and search it, you might find something about how he was killed."_

Beast Boy nodded, a question lingering on the tip of his tongue. Raven must have guessed it was there, for she raised an eyebrow.

_"What? What is it?"_

"I dunno," he murmured, and scuffed his foot nervously. "Maybe…do…do you think that these new murders are connected to what happened before with…?"

The demon girl's expression darkened.

_"No. He's dead—end of story. People don't come back to life, it's impossible."_

Beast Boy sighed quietly.

"Yeah, yeah…I know. Send the coroner to me when you can."

He snapped the communicator shut and sat down next to the mutilated boy, peering anxiously at the face.

It was funny…but he could have sworn that the guy looked a lot like Cyborg…

-----------------------

"So, you gonna leave her up there all night or what?"

Raven glanced over her shoulder at Cy, who was regarding her with a half smile. She didn't return it.

"I want her to stay this way, until I can understand why the killer posed her this way."

The half-human, half-machine chewed on his bottom lip under her heavy stare and strode off in another direction; the Goth let him go, and began searching the girl's pockets.

She couldn't blame Cyborg for what had taken place: It wasn't fair, seeing as they had all agreed to it before Robin had come home…it was her fault as much as it was his.

_Just stop thinking about it—PERIOD! It's over! Why won't this go away?_

Her fingers closed around a wallet, and she pulled it out and flipped it open.

A library card informed her that their victim was a Tara Malcolm, a seventeen year old girl from the suburban part of the city.

So what was she doing on the edge of town, near the coastline?

There was a picture by the card as well; Tara was waving at a camera enthusiastically, while an African-American boy laughed, a muscular arm wrapped around her slim shoulders.

The Goth demon almost had to wonder if the two cases were somehow connected…

Raven groaned softly and took a step back to observe the body; the female was evidently a punk kind of person—the heroine could tell from short locks of hair, dyed a hue of unique purple; in the way that she'd been tied, with her arms horizontal to her vertical body, she looked rather like she was ready to take off into the air…

Nah. That wasn't it…

Just then, Raven caught sight of the red markings on Tara's palms, carved by the dagger that had slain her no doubt. But it held more meaning for her; the Titan stumbled back, constantly hissing "no, no, this can't be right," under her breath.

Whoever had killed her had inscribed the marks of Scath on the poor girl's hands, and then lifted, and tied her body upwards…as if she were a bird, posed for flight.

It was Raven herself.

_"…Do you think that these new murders are connected to what happened before with…?"_

For the first time that day, the heroine began to contemplate Beast Boy's remark with a seriousness she hadn't anticipated.

**To be Continued…**

Told you it was quick. If any of you are annoyed by my frequent revisions (Example: "If I'm going to post it, I might as well have the decency to look over everything and make sure that I'm happy with the way it is, instead of going back and altering all this stuff") but once I got down to thinking about the old version…I dunno. Anyway: Please review if you already have, and for everyone else that has, you don't need to.

Thank you, and goodnight/good day,

Rebel


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